


Ticking of the Clock

by Carpet_Church



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Art Major Will Byers, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Barista Eleven, F/M, Lit Student Mike Wheeler, Long Live Starcourt, Mileven, More Shit I Can't Think Of, Potential Steamy Content, Slice of Life, Small Towns, Starcourt Is Dead, The Party are in their twenties, forgetting tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 07:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19825798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carpet_Church/pseuds/Carpet_Church
Summary: Jane Elijah Hopper does not like Hawkins. Its quaint lifestyle does not line-up with the hustle and bustle of Chicago living. By chance, she decides to stay with her step-father, Jim, for a semester in Hawkins. An encounter with Mike, sends her life into a spiral she's not sure she wants to escape from. Perhaps she can learn love along the way?





	Ticking of the Clock

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this hastily, so it's honestly shit. Plus it's more of a proof of concept for myself. Should people enjoy it, I'll consider actually making this a story.
> 
> To get the vibe I would want this story to have, listen to "Alone" by Heart. Good stuff.

Jane Elijah Hopper, didn’t owe shit to this town. 

Hawkins, Indiana, the poster child of small towns, used to be the type of place where everybody knew everybody, a quiet small town where the main past times were gossip and high school football games.

The stores you saw downtown were virtually unchanged since they opened in the early 60s. Some of the people inhabiting that area dress similarly. Apparently, that all changed with the introduction of the Starcourt mall. 

A once quiet town turned into an expanding mini-metropolis as businesses flooded in to land a spot in and around shiny Starcourt. Starcourt was allowed the audacity, to turn away would-be companies, as store spots became a precious commodity.

It was no longer the 80s, however, and Starcourt was dying.

The old guard claimed it was with the advent of the internet and the birth of the information age. With a gruff on a rotting rocking-chair, they’d look on into the ghostly wisps of the burnt out neon lights. The younger ones, were just sad to see one of the few vestiges of typical teenage life succumb to the iconoclastic tide of the World Wide Web. 

On a positive note, the strangled croak of Starcourt’s corpse allowed for downtown Hawkins to once again become populated as it had before the mall’s commencement.

And so, the wash of commercialism, ebbs and flows in sleepy Hawkins.

It’s the 1998 now, and Jane Hopper is visiting her dad in a town that doesn’t want her.

•••••

“God fucking dammit! Watch what you’re doing woman!”

“What’s taking so long?!”

For Jane Hopper, her first day at Roane Coffee, was for lack of a better term, going to shit.

The line of pissed customers was almost out the door, and a man in the front of the line was properly drenched in, thankfully, iced coffee.

Jane had tripped on an extension cord for the open sign outside the coffee shop. The mere fact that someone decided to strew it across the kitchen floor was beyond her.

In the chaos of the early morning rush, Roane Coffee was the epicenter of the new waitresses’ emotional breakdown as she juggled several orders, consoled and cleaned the man drenched in coffee, and tried not to stare at the cute guy who walked into the coffee shop early this morning.

“Espresso with whipped cream, espresso whipped cream, espresso…” Jane muttered to herself as she finished the last order of the morning rush. 

The woman tapped her foot impatiently as she finally received her drink. With a glare, she dropped a single penny into the tip jar; the entire motion seething with insult.

With a loud deflated sigh, Jane settled onto the counter. She knows she should start brewing more coffee for the eventual lunch rush, and it was already 11:30, so that would be soon. She just needed a couple moments to breathe, a couple moments to unwind, just a few seconds to-

“Uh, ma’am?” A quiet voice suddenly chimed.

Jane yelped in surprise. 

“My apologies sir, how may I help youuu…” She trailed off once she noticed who she was finally speaking to.

It was that cute guy.

His bright eyes were overcast by a thick tangle of dark hair, and his mouth masked by a face of nervous worry . As if, he was trying to say too many things at one time, but nothing came out at all.

“I, uh, noticed you looking kinda stressed. Not that I was watching you,” he cleared his throat. “I just wanted to hopefully make your day a little better?”

Jane was confused.  
“Um, thanks?” Jane said as the guy was just standing there. 

He stood there staring for a few more seconds before his eyes went wide with shock. 

“Shit, I forgot to actually fucking…” he muttered under his breath, as he fished out his wallet. Struggling for a second, the large embroidered Death Star made the wallet seem wholly impractical in any normal-sized pocket. Triumphantly, he wrestled out a five-dollar bill and gingerly placed it into the tip-jar.

“I was… trying to make up for that last rude customer, but I uh, got lost in a train of thought. Then, I just ended up staring at you like a creep. I’m sorry.” He bowed slightly and turned tail. 

“Sir! Wait!” The odd boy stopped and turned towards Jane. “I appreciate the thought, but you should really keep the money. It was my fault for being slow in the first place.” 

At this the boy, turned fully toward her. His body now fully lit by the sun bleeding through a nearby window. 

His tall lithe frame reminded Jane of a stork. His clothes were baggy and simple, if not a little unkempt. A simple white tee shirt haphazardly covered by a pale yellow plaid flannel. Light denim jeans that pooled around the feet cloaking dirty black VANS sneakers. 

Jane eyed him up and down in the blink of an eye. Where the clothes left much to be desired, his face was something to truly marvel at. 

By all regards, he was gorgeous. Thick curly dark hair over-shadowed a porcelain white face with high-cheekbones and a sharp jaw. 

“There’s no reason to not be nice, I guess. Plus, you handled my order fast, and I forgot to tip. Sooooo consider that a thank you for the delicious coffee.” He turned back to the corner table he was sitting at grabbed his bag and promptly left the store. 

The only traces of his existence being a five-dollar bill and the fading chime of the doorbell.

**Author's Note:**

> Eleven is OOC. I'll amend that if this is received well.
> 
> Thanks again.
> 
> Honestly, there needs to be more fics about these two. I'm surprised there isn't more than there is.


End file.
